The Boy and The Red Balloon
by Evil Beware We Have Waffles
Summary: One day, the boy is being childish and foolish, and he accidentally lets go of the string on the balloon, and can only watch horrified and tearfully as the balloon disappears into the sky, never to be seen again.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<br>Authors Note: I have this story up on my livejournal, but I wanted to post it here as well. It has a different title on livejournal, on livejournal it is **Give Me Strength** but as I was writing it, I came up with a better title for it.

Yes, I know I haven't updated **Klaine** yet, I plan to, but as I stated in that story, I have school going on, and I have the first seven chapters of this _short_ story finished. I suspect there will only be about nine or ten. At least nine.

It is rated M for a reason.

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><p>Blaine Anderson really couldn't dance - he really just couldn't, so why he signed up for Hummel's Dance Academy he wasn't quite sure. He just saw the flyer swinging through the breeze as he was walking down the busy New York street, it had flown into his face, cliché he knows, but it does, and when he looks down at it, he just decides to go for it. What harm could it do, really?<p>

There were a few things that Blaine Anderson was good at though, one of those things being blowjobs. Yes, Blaine Anderson could give an exceptional blowjob - for a price, of course. Because when you're 21, jobless and living with your crazy best friends because you were evicted out of your house because of the bills, giving blowjobs to gay men who are as lonely as you are was a good way to go.

Lonely seems to be a word that strikes Blaine's world a lot - lonely is really what he is most of the time, the last real boyfriend he ever had was from high school, but that was a mutual breakup, with an understanding between the two of them, that their relationship wasn't working out, and they ended it weeks before graduation.

"Blaine you don't even know how to dance," Wes said, as he relaxed on the couch, folding one leg over the other, fixing Blaine with a stare he had seen from Wes far too many times to count.

Hence why I'm taking lessons, Wesley," Blaine snapped back, his voice rich with sarcasm.

"Please, you just want to find another boy to fuck," David called from the kitchen, as he poured Blaine some coffee into a thermos, walking into the small living room and then handing it to him

"No, actually, I don't even know anyone there is even playing for my team - I'm going to dance," he paused, "But if there happens to be someone who is, that'll certainly be a upside to the whole thing."

Wes scoffed, "You're disgusting."

"Nope, I just like sex."

The thing is, Blaine wasn't always like this. There was a point in time where sex wasn't the only important thing in his life. There was a point in time when Blaine was the top in his classes at University, he had friends, a job, and a couple potential love interests to pursue. Where everything went wrong, he wasn't sure, but he figured it was arond the time his father returned home after years and years of him leaving his family, with an intent on making his very gay son straight.

It obviously didn't work, because that's when Blaine started to rebel against his father, by going to the bar and bringing the first gay man he could find and having loud, obnoxious sex that night. The pay Blaine for that was a nice lay, and a hard punch in the face by his father the next morning, only then to be kicked out of his parent's house and onto the street, just months before graduation. Which was when Blaine had found his own apartment, in the first place.

By the time Blaine had graduated, he had lost his job, and was now living with Wes and David, but the trill he had with bringing men home from the bar - hot, experienced men - wasn't leaving him, so Blaine started doing it again, and again, and in no time at all, he was the man being taken home. There were a few times where Wes had threatened to kick Blaine out on the street unless he got his act together, but Wes never went through that the threat.

David sighs, and sits down on the couch next to Blaine, who just smirks in return and steps up grabbing his green jacket from the hanger and slipping it on, waving goodbye to his two friends and starting to walk to the dance studio.

The winter air is cold, and it nips at Blaine's uncovered ears, behind his unruly, curly hair, Blaine remembers as a child when he would make snowmen with his younger sister, the sister who he hadn't seen or spoken with in a year. When you live in New York City, it's surprisingly easy to avoid the people who don't want to see.

For a moment, a simple moment the loneliness that surrounds Blaine every moment of every day comes out and hits his heart in one brutal hit. For a moment, Blaine wants to cry, something he hadn't let himself do in a long, long time. But Blaine never lets these feelings stay for long. He pushes them into the back of his heart, like he's done for years now.

***

The dance studio is an old building, it's been here for a few years, the floors getting old and creaky, and it has an old musty smell. A small group of people are gathered by the door, most of them are young girls chattering away, one girl with brown hair and bangs walks her way up to Blaine, handing him a clipboard.

"You have to write your name, age, and how many years of dance experience you've had," she says with a large smile that Blaine is finding really creepy, so he writes everything that the woman says handing her back the clipboard and she reads it over, "Zero years of experience?" she says with a laugh, "Well okay. I'm Rachel Berry, by the way, future Broadway star, nice to meet you ... Blaine Anderson."

Blaine nods, "Um, yeah, you too," he pushes past Rachel to go to the wall and lean against it as he waits for the class to start, but the smaller girl just follows after him, smiling with a smile that Blaine knows, it's the - "wow this boy is cute, I wonder if he's single, let's become his friend" face, and right before Rachel can open her mouth to say anything else, Blaine says very bluntly, "I'm gay."

The girls mouth hangs open, she flushes a dark red, "O-oh..." she stammers, "I wasn't actually going to-"

"Sure you weren't," Blaine says with a chuckle, "But it's fine, I'm sort of used to it." Blaine sways from foot to foot, looking around the room once again, "So, who runs this shin-dig?"

"Kurt Hummel," Rachel says like Blaine is supposed to know, "Why did you even sign up for this, you don't even seem vaguely interested in dancing," Rachel suddenly snaps, folding her arms over her chest, scowling at Blaine.

Blaine shrugs, "I thought I could maybe learn," he says with a snort, raising an eyebrow at the smaller girl, "Aren't these dance lessons?"

"Yes, but still, you don't even seem interested."

"I'm hiding my excitement."

Rachel rolls her eyes before sauntering away from Blaine and back to the large group of women. Blaine thinks it's funny how easily he can piss people off, because he honestly isn't trying to push people away, it's really not his fault that people are stupid most of the time in front of him. All he wants to do is have sex with people for no reason at all, is that really such a horrible thing? Does it make him a horrible person? No, it just makes him a needy, hormonal, horny young man, and in Blaine's world that isn't a bad thing.

Instead of following after Rachel, Blaine just leans against a wall, his arms folded over his chest and waits for the class to start. He spots Rachel telling a large woman about him - he knows because Rachel is talking very loudly, and is making a lot of eye contact and pointing at him. Blaine knows that he probably isn't the most interesting person to meet outside of the bedroom, it's why he doesn't have many friends except for Wes and David, but Blaine knows that they're only being his friend right now out of pity. He knows the only thing Wes wants to do is kick him out on the street, but the only thing that is keeping him from doing so is David's pleas that he thinks Blaine can change. Blaine finds the word change funny, because to him, you can only change for the worst, not for the better. His father certainly proved that.

Large doors swing open, and a tell, lean young man walks out, and for a moment, Blaine stares, he actually stares, and he feels like an idiot. Because Blaine Anderson doesn't stare at anyone or anything, he's Blaine Anderson, he doesn't get attracted to people, he just has sex with people. But this man, boy is he stare-worthy, brown hair, eyes that seemed to be blue and green but grey all at the same time. A fit chest, and he's tall, taller than Blaine, (though most people are taller than Blaine) and he has this face, this round... soft looking face and all Blaine wants to do is take it in his hands and just hold it for a moment. He looks like glass, Blaine thinks, He looks like one of those porcelain dolls that his grandmother used to have.

That's Kurt Hummel, Blaine realizes.

Shit.

Oh shit.

That can't be Kurt Hummel. Blaine's dance teacher can't be that attractive, how the hell is Blaine supposed to concentrate?

Kurt beckons the group in, and Blaine follows along at the back, his eyes still pinned to the back of Kurt's head, as he follows after. They enter into a large dance room, with a long mirror on one wall, and bars, just like a ballet studio, and Blaine then wonders if Kurt can do ballet, and if his legs can bend like that...

"Welcome," Kurt says, and Blaine can only think, 'Oh shit, are you kidding me? He _sounds_ like an angel too!' "My name is Kurt Hummel, and I will be your instructor today. First I want to tell you a bit about me... I'm twenty years old, and I've been dancing since I was five when I asked my father to sign me up for a dance production of 'Swan Lake',"

Awesome. Ballet. He _can _bend like that.

"Dancing is more than an activity for me, it's my passion, what I life for. Just like a writer's passion would be writing, or an athlete's passion would be to play football for the rest of his life. I hope these next two weeks will be a fun experience for you all, and I'm sure you'll be a joy to teach."

A small applause goes over the dance room, and Kurt does a little bow. He tells everyone to line up in front of him, and they do so. All the girls are at the front, while Blaine is at the back, still unsure of what to do. He wonders if Kurt has even noticed him, and then he wonders why he wants Kurt to notice him.

The dance class goes by painfully slow for Blaine to handle, Kurt has them stretch, and then do jumping jacks to prepare themselves. They do a few dance moves over and over again, and Blaine almost laughs out loud because he's dancing, he is dancing, and he never dances, because he can't dance, but here he is dancing at Kurt Hummel's dance class.

Once the class is over, all the girls fall out, but Blaine stays behind, he's just watching Kurt again seeing what he does. Maybe this is too creepy, maybe Blaine can now qualify as being a stalker, because here he is just watching his dance teacher, who surprisingly hasn't noticed him still here, (or has he?)

"I know what kind of person you are," he hears Kurt say, from where he was bending over, putting away piles of CDs he had brought to class today.

Blaine clears his throat, and stands up more, "And who may that be?"

"You're the kind of guy that my best friend's dated in high school," Kurt is standing up now, facing Blaine, and they're a meter away from each other now, and Blaine is just smirking at him, "You know, the kind who just sign up for these things so they can watch girls in spandex, hoping that one night after class you can take one of them home, and then the other, and the other, until you basically have fucked the whole class," There's a pause, "Am I right?"

Blaine laughs, smirking at Kurt, "Not at all, oh wise one," Blaine shoves his hands in his pockets, "Because I like dick."

Kurt blushes, and Blaine just stares at the rosy, pink cheeks, "Oh," Kurt says breathlessly, "I didn't expect that. Y-you don't look..."

"Gay? Yeah I get that a lot."

"I'm sorry if I..."

"Offended me? Oh no, you didn't," Blaine is still smirking, because he's already making his dance teacher flustered, and really if it's this easy, Blaine will be able to woo him into bed in no time.

"I-I'm gay too... you know..." Kurt says, playing with the nails on his fingers awkwardly.

"I could tell by your obvious blushing," Blaine said, which just makes the younger boy blush even more, and Blaine feels like he's accomplishing something.

"I'm not going to date you."

"Didn't say you had to."

"Okay."

"Fine."

"Alright then."

"You were right about one thing, though.

"And what was that?" Kurt's neck is craned, and he's back in his stance of leadership, his arms are placed on his hips, and Blaine is still just smirking at him, because he can still tell that the boy is blushing.

Blaine walks closer to the younger boy, still smirking, "I do like sex," he whispers roughly, before turning dramatically on his heel and walking out of the dance studio.

Oh, yeah, Blaine could woo this boy into oblivion if he wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

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><p>A hard hand slaps over Blaine's face, he lets out a painful cry, falling to the ground, as his father towers over him. For a moment, and only a moment, Blaine feels powerful, like he has beat his father as something, like he's proved to someone that his father cannot change him, and that he is the one who rules his world. But then he looks up at his father's seething, ugly, hatred face, and he cowers. Blaine is afraid, he realizes, he's afraid of his father, and what he is going to do next.<p>

The pain in his face finally comes to, and he winces dramatically, tasting the copper-y blood that has appeared on the inside of his teeth.

"You fag," his father sneers, "How dare you - how DARE you bring another man into my house? Get out of my house, you little faggot, get out and never come back!"

The tears come into Blaine's eyes before he knows they do, he's frozen, he doesn't move, he doesn't know what to do. But the sharp pain in his side from his father's foot tells him to get the fuck out. Blaine jumps up, and runs to his room as his father is calling after him saying he has ten minutes to gather his clothes and leave. In a hurry, Blaine shoves basically all of the clothes from his dresser into a duffle bag, and he runs out of the house and into the street.

He's alone, he's all alone in the street. With nowhere to go.

He was alone...

After the first day of classes, when Blaine had returned home, he had found Wes waiting for him, still sitting on the couch as if he hadn't moved for the whole day. Blaine slips off his coat, hanging it back up in the closet. He smirks at Wes.

"Hello, dearest friend."

"I know that look," Wes says slowly, "That's your 'I got some' or 'I'm gonna get some' look."

Blaine snorts, "I don't know what you're talking about. This is just my face, it doesn't have a certain look," Blaine walks over to the fridge and grabs out a beer, still smirking at Wes.

Wes stands up and walks over to Blaine, grabbing the drink out of his hand, "One, this is my alcohol, get your own," Wes grabs the beer from Blaine's hands and cracks it open, "And two, I know your face, Blaine, I've known your face forever, and the face you're giving me now is you're, 'I'm gonna get some at some point' face. So tell me, who are you going to fuck next? Someone at the dance studio turn out to be playing for your team?"

Blaine smiles broadly, "As a matter of fact, yes, someone there is gay, Wesley. But whether I 'fuck' him or not is really none of your business."

Wes laughed loudly, "None of my buisness?" he barks, "Really? I'm sure it'll be 'my buisness' when I come home to hearing your having sex once again. It'll be 'my buisness' when I have to clean your bedsheets because you don't to laundry. It is my buisness, Blaine, it's always been my buisness!"

Blaine rolls his eyes, waving at hand at Wes, "Whatever, I'm going to my room."

"You're a whore, Blaine!" Wes yells, pointing a finger at him.

"I just like sex!" Blaine counters, slipping inside his room and closing the door.

He lies down on his bed and closes his eyes tightly, and he thinks. There was a time where Wes was his best friend, there was a point in time that he could tell Wes anything and he wouldn't judge him, but all those times were gone, Wes and him were barely able to get through a conversation without fighting or yelling at each other. Wes was really Blaine's only true friend, but now they barely even spoke to each other, even though they lived together

Blaine had honestly never felt so alone then he did now.

He was alone...

_Fuck_.

***

For the next two days of classes, Kurt barely had made any eye contact with Blaine, which Blaine honestly found hilarious that this boy was finding Blaine so attractive that he couldn't even make eye contact. The times they did make eye contact Kurt would just blush away, or trip over his own feet, which Blaine would just snicker to at the back of the class.

Finally, after class one day, Blaine stayed after again, watching as Kurt put his CDs away that he used that day, which included Lady Gaga, Katy Perry and Rhianna. Blaine was standing on the opposite side of the dance studio, his arms folded over his chest, just watching Kurt, who was desperately attempting to ignore Blaine.

"You're attracted to me," Blaine says, a smirk still plastered over his face, "I can tell. I'm pretty hot, so I don't see why you wouldn't.

"You're self absorbed," Kurt mutters, shaking his head, "You think way too highly of yourself."

"But if I don't, who will, babe?" Blaine pouts, catching Kurt's eye, who just blushes away, causing Kurt to blush away. "Just admit it, you're attracted to me."

"If I admit it will you go away?" Kurt asks, looking up at Blaine again, giving him a smile.

Blaine starts to cross over to the other side of the dance studio, standing in front of Kurt, who just rolls his eyes, and places a hand on his hips.

"Why are you even here?" Kurt asks, "You obviously don't like to dance, and you're not even good at it, so why are you even still here?"

Blaine thinks about it for a second, "Well, at first it was ... something to do. Just for fun," he walks closer to Kurt, who just backs up, trying his best to get away from the boy, "But then, I saw you, and man, you can't just walk around with this body of yours ... that ass," Kurt squeaked rather suddenly, and Blaine can only just laugh again, "I want to kiss your pink lips... so fucking bad."

"S-so do it," Kurt says in a small voice, and Blaine doesn't even waste a second to bring their lips crashing together, it's all teeth and tongue, but the two of them don't exactly mind at first, because Blaine had Kurt pressed against the back of the dance studio wall, and Blaine is grinding up against Kurt slightly, and in no time, Blaine has dropped to his knees and he's fiddling with the strings on the black track pants that Kurt was wearing today.

Kurt grabs Blaine's hands, "W-what are you doing?" he gasps.

"It's called a blowjob," Blaine says, "Don't worry, I give an amazing one."

"Wait!" Kurt cries still gripping at Blaine's hands, "I-I'm a virgin, s-so go slow, okay?"

Blaine's heart melts for a second there, because for a moment, and only a moment, he remembers, he remembers that's what he said, that's exactly what he said to that man he had brought home from the bar that night, "I'm a virgin, go slow, please." and then they fucked, and Blaine had gotten kicked out of his house. Blaine shakes his head slightly, and nods at Kurt, and for a moment his voice is real and sincere, "Yeah, I'll go slow, promise."

Kurt nods, and gives Blaine the go-ahead, and Blaine just pulls down Kurt's track pants along with his underwear in one fell swoop, staring at Kurt's only half hard cock - but Blaine can surely fix that little problem. He licks over the head, and Kurt actually _mewls_ above him, and - fuck - that was so cute.

Blaine doesn't waste any time then taking Kurt's cock into his mouth, feeling him get hard in his mouth, and he's sucking, and running his tongue along the underside of Kurt's cock, and everything is just falling apart, Kurt is squirming and his hips are trying desperately not to buck underneath of Kurt's touch. Blaine is going slowly, slowly and surely, because he remembers what his first time was like, and how good it felt for the very first time to have someone touch him like that.

"Fuck, B-Blaine," Kurt moans softly above Blaine, his hands entwined hard in Blaine's hair, "Blaine, I-I'm going to-"

"So go," Blaine mumbles around Kurt's cock, and that's pretty much it, Kurt is coming hard and hot into Blaine's mouth, and Blaine is just swallowing every bit, until Kurt is done, and then Blaine stands up, wiping his mouth. He's smirking at Kurt, and his superiority is back, and he's once again the new Blaine Anderson - the one who likes sex.

"I-I," Kurt mumbles, still pressed up against the wall of the studio, his pants and underwear still fallen around his ankles, he's gaping at Blaine, attempting to find words.

"Thanks, teach," Blaine mumbles next to Kurt's ear, before turning and actually strutting out of the dance studio, leaving Kurt fumbling with getting his pants back up.

Blaine has just wooed the teacher.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

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><p>Kurt Hummel originated from Lima, Ohio, one of the smallest towns you could really ever imagine. His high school was lonely and disrespectful, Kurt didn't have very many friends, and he was bullied constantly as a teenager for simply being who he was. By graduation he was used to it, of course, and except for a few minor scratches and bruises Kurt never was hurt too badly... maybe a little personal heart scarring, but nothing major.<p>

Kurt mostly was afraid for his father, who was very sick from the time he was sixteen to about his graduation. He was suffering from a heart condition, and Kurt always seemed to be worried for him, taking care of him, preparing his meals. Even though Burt had said that he was fine and could take care of himself, Kurt still insisted on doing it.

After highschool, Kurt had gotten a scholarship in France to study at a Dance Academy, seeing that he was fluent in French, and wanted to pursue his career in dance - any type of dance, ballet, hip hop, jazz, he did it all. After two years of study there, Kurt moved back to Lima, to live with his Dad for another year. Who by then, had gotten re-married to Carole Hudson, a nice woman, who had a son Kurt's age, Finn, and the two of them had gone to school together. Kurt an Finn hadn't ever gotten along, Kurt had had this tiny, stupid childish crush on the poor boy back in the tenth grade, but that whole thing had blown over by the end of the year, and Kurt admits that maybe he could have been a little creepy with the whole crush thing.

Kurt's final year back at home with his father isn't a busy one, but he expected that moving back to Lima, Ohio. Kurt was a dance teacher at the local dance studio in the downtown area, teaching ballet to little girls from the ages of four to eight. That was a fun job, being with little kids - Kurt_loved_ kids in the first place, he always imagined himself having some of his own when he was a little bit earlier.

During these busy school years, the only experience Kurt realizes he had left out was attempting to find a boyfriend. Someone he could call his own. Yes, while he was in France he had met a few French boys, but not ones he could picture pursuing, mostly because that would probably involve in living in France - which Kurt doesn't want to do, even though that would be an amazing experience, a few years were enough - and they really weren't that interesting to Kurt.

But Kurt wants a boyfriend, he does, and he's kissed a few of those French boys - not a lot of tongue, though, ironically - but he was never in a relationship long enough to do anything than make out on the boy's couch, and then have them sort of drift apart. Also, the whole idea of sex had always creeped Kurt out a little bit. Not that he would never do it - oh, no, Kurt was certain that one day he would - he just was a little ... afraid, or hesitant you could put.

So why he had let Blaine Anderson - a boy he only knew for merely a few days - suck his dick of all things, was freaking him out a little. Because, yes, Blaine was attractive, beautiful and _gorgeous_, he's also blunt, cocky and sometimes rude, and all those things are things that Kurt has always hated in a person, but yet he finds it drawing him into Blaine. Mostly Kurt hates it, that he's falling for someone he barely knows and all because of the way he was acting. Kurt knew there was obviously something wrong with this boy, he wasn't normal and seemed to space out in class a lot - yes, Kurt pays attention to Blaine most of the time - but even that Kurt found enticingly attractive.

Oh, and another thing Kurt doesn't understand.

Is why he let Blaine in his house, and was now sucking his face off on his couch.

Blaine had came up to him again after class, and he was giving Kurt this look that made Kurt think he was just going to take every innocent thing from him then and there against the wall. But instead Blaine had asked if Kurt wanted to get some coffee with him - which surprised Kurt at first because Blaine isn't the type of person who does things like this, he just is supposed to fuck and move on. But here Kurt was, walking down the street to go get coffee with the boy that was currently on his mind 80% of the time.

"You like coffee?" Blaine had asked in the most casual tone Kurt had ever heard him talk in before.

Kurt nods, "Yeah... it keeps me alive and moving, coffee is a savior."

Blaine laughs, and Kurt's stomach does this little swooping thing, because Blaine truly laughs there, not a smug chuckle or a smirk that he's so used to seeing.

After the coffee, Kurt had been stupid enough to invite Blaine over to his apartment, where - the second Kurt closed the door - Blaine had backed Kurt up against it, bringing their lips hard and furious together, causing Kurt to drop his eyes to his house on the floor. Their breath was hot and warm mixed together, Kurt brought his hands up and tangled it in the hair on the crook of Blaine's neck, causing Blaine's breath to shorten for a moment.

Then here they are, on the couch, Blaine on top of Kurt, the younger boy moaning loudly beneath him, Blaine smiling cockily - the only way it seems he can - above him, sucking Kurt's bottom lip into his mouth roughly. Hands are traveling down Kurt's body, his hands pressing up against Kurt's stomach, and Blaine's hands are rough and hard, and Kurt tries not to press into the touch of his fingers as much as he wants to.

"Blaine," Kurt pants the name, hot out of his mouth and he's panting, but his words are obviously ignored when Blaine just tries to press their lips back together again, "Blaine, seriously," he whispers, "We can't - we can't keep doing this."

"Mm?" Blaine mumbles opening his eyes all the way and staring at Kurt, smirking, "Why not? This is fun," he whispers against the skin of Kurt's neck, bringing his lips there and beginning to lick over the skin and kiss at it, causing Kurt to shiver unexpectedly.

"Y-you're my student," Kurt gasps, closing his eyes tightly trying to ignore how great Blaine's lips felt on his neck, "Even if you don't a-attempt at the dancing, and you're only h-here to m-maybe get ... sex," he lets out a breathless moan, "I-I can't be in a relationship with you. I can't sleep with you."

"Mhm," Blaine breaths, sucking on the skin on Kurt's neck, nipping his teeth over it as well, "See, now you could continue to tell me this wonderful story, _or_, you could keep still and stop _squirming_ so much."

Kurt lets out a huffy breath, which quickly turns into a gasp as Blaine bites at the skin on his neck again, he wiggles underneath Blaine, who just continues doing what he's doing, and after a minute or two, Blaine pulls away, getting up all together, and grabbing his jacket and slipping it on.

"Wait!" Kurt calls, jumping up, "W-where are you going...?" he asks, because, sadly, he doesn't want Blaine to leave, even though he would never admit that out loud because they were strictly supposed to be teacher and "student".

"I have to get home," Blaine says roughly, smiling that smile Kurt is oh so used to, "I promised my friend's I'd be home for supper, and it's getting late, so I have to go," he says, licking his tongue over his lips quickly, and Kurt doesn't watch the action, oh no, no, no (he'stotallylying).

Kurt nods, understanding, "O-oh okay," he says, "I guess I'll see you ... in class."

Blaine licks his tongue over his lips again, giving Kurt a wink before walking out the door, causing Kurt to breath in heavily and lie back down on the couch, groaning loudly to himself.

He was in far too deep than he wanted to be.

***

The next day comes all too quickly, Kurt arrives early in the dance studio, seeing Rachel Berry - his loud mouthed friend that he made shortly after coming here - early for class like always. She waved at Kurt, who smiled back at her, sticking his hands in the pockets of his sweater.

"Good morning, Kurt," Rachel said, "How are you this - oh my god, Kurt is that a hickey?"

Kurt immediately flushes, his hand flying up the mark on his neck - yeah,_ ow_, it was a little bit sore. He had completely forgot about this thing this morning, he was going to put something over it so no one could see it, but had forgotten, and now _Rachel_ of all people has seen it.

"W-well, um," Kurt stammers, "It's - yes, it's a h-hickey..."

"Who's the guy?" Rachel asked, suddenly very interested, and Kurt could feel himself blushing, and he knew he couldn't tell Rachel that it was Blaine - he would get this rant about how it isn't wise to date your student, and how it is off limits, and he really didn't want that.

"No one you know," Kurt said quickly, trying his best to walk away from the small girl, who just followed after him, "It doesn't matter anyway, it was a one time thing."

"You know, if you're looking for a make out buddy, I have a lot of homosexual friends who would probably be interested. I can give you -"

"No, Rachel!" Kurt cried, maybe a bit too harshly than he meant to, "I don't want a make out buddy, I'm fine. It's no one, a one time thing, it won't happen again."

Rachel ignored Kurt after that, and people started to pile in one by one, filling up the dance studio. They whispered, and pointed at Kurt's neck, giggling to themselves as Kurt did his best to ignore it, which was easier than he thought it would e in the first place.

He could ignore the giggles from the girls, and the looks and the fingers pointing at him, he could handle the rumors that would develop about him in his class after this. But what Kurt couldn't ignore, was the small boy who walked in and leaned against the wall, his oh-so-famous smirk plastered on his face, he couldn't ignore his smile, his face, and the way his tongue licked over his lips as he stared at him.

And he most definitely could _not_ ignore when that boy had walked up to him, leaning over to whisper in his ear, dark, rough, and warm, "Oh, hey, you have a little something there on your neck," only to then just waltz away oh too proudly, and back to his little corner in the room.

Kurt cleared his throat loudly, "Okay! Let's get to work."


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

* * *

><p>It was his fault, Blaine had decided, it was Kurt's fault that he was so breathtakingly beautiful that Blaien couldnt' look away from him wherever they went together. If Kurt didn't have <em>that<em> face, and_those_ eyes, finally completed with _that_ body, none of this would have happened in general. Blaine wouldn't have been instantly attracted to him, making him an easy person to woo into bed.

As time went on, Blaine found that just spending time with Kurt was enjoyable; they didn't even have to do anything under the covers. – Not that they did that much because Kurt was still getting used to something as simple as a blowjob from Blaine. But Blaine liked walking down the street holding Kurt's hand, he liked the way Kurt watched him during the dance classes, and he especially liked the way Kurt made him feel; like he was worth something, like he was loved.

Was it so bad to just … want? It was all Blaine really wanted, to be wanted by someone else and to want somebody in return. He wanted Kurt, he wanted him in the sense that he just wanted to be with him, being naked and pressed up against each other had nothing to do with it.

"Want to come over?" Kurt had asked him quite suddenly when Blaine was helping to put away some equipment. Blaine looked up, seeing those eyes smiling, just twinkling at him. Then he nodded, and felt Kurt's fingers entwine suddenly in his, pulling him out the door and they walked down the street.

Another thing that Blaine found intriguing about Kurt is how much he talked, he could just go for hours about a certain subject, and Blaine would just have to nod and smile to make it look like he was listening – which he was, on a somewhat more … subconscious level. He knew how much Kurt loved and cared for his ill father, and how his stepmother called on a regular basis to give updates on how his father was doing.

"Tell me a bit about yourself." That was a request that came out of Kurt's mouth a lot.

Blaine tilted his head up slightly to look at Kurt's eager face, there wasn't a whole lot left to tell, Kurt knew that he had lived in New York since he was born, he knows what schools Blaine had went to, and honestly, there wasn't much that Blaine was willing to tell.

"I used to sing," he then blurts out of nowhere, and Blaine instantly wants to smack himself, but he doesn't know why, "I can play guitar, but, I haven't in a while."

"A while?" Kurt said, with a raised eyebrow.

"A year or so," Blaine clarified.

They reach Kurt's apartment, and for a moment the conversation is forgotten as Kurt reaches for his key, and unlocks the door. It was a late class today, almost suppertime. Blaine then realizes, Kurt invited him over, and it's getting late, and Blaine tried not to let his mind get carried away, but then Kurt is striding over towards him, pulling him close by their hips.

"I have a proposal," Kurt whisperes, and Blaine remembers another thing he loves about Kurt – he's taller, only slightly so, but he is still taller.

"And what is that, exactly?" Blaine quips, his throat dry, and his fingers itching and twitching to just touch.

"I get to be in charge."

Blaine is about to laugh, and tell Kurt that, "that isn't exactly how it works" with him, but then Kurt's lips are on his, and Blaine is being pushed back until he has collided with the door. Kurt's hands are low on Blaine's hips, and Blaine's hand flies to hold Kurt's head, and tongues are flying, and teeth are clashing, and it feels as if Blaine's lips will be bruised in the morning, but it doesn't matter, because this feels so good. This feels perfect.

The sound, oh the sound Kurt is making are delicious, he's breathing hotly out through his nose, and making these little squeaks and moans through his mouth, that Blaine can feel the vibrations of as his hands hold onto Kurt's neck. Then jackets are flying onto the floor, and Kurt is pulling Blaine back off the door. They're stumbling through Kurt's house until they're in Kurt's bedroom, and by then Blaine's pants are unbuttoned and low on his hips, and Kurt is on top of him, just kissing, kissing, down his neck, onto his collar bone. Blaine catches sight of the fading hickey he had left on Kurt's neck, and lets outa loud, wanting moan.

Blaine attempts to flip the two of them over, but Kurt shoves him back by his shoulders, not saying a word as his mouth attaches itself to the skin of Blaine's neck. But nothing can suppress the sound that comes from Blaine's throat as Kurt's hand cups the growing bulge in his pants, and Blaine can feel the smile on Kurt's mouth against his neck. Nothing, nothing compares to this.

Now there's this voice screaming in the back of Blaine's head that he should stop, he should run from this beautiful, pale, porcelain man before everything crashes down on top of him. But that voice has been screaming non-stop for a year, nothing can tear Blaine away from this, and he doesn't plan on letting him win anytime soon.

"Blaine," Kurt breaths into Blaine's ear, sending a wave of shivers down his spine, "Can I – I want to blow you."

Blaine's breath hitches almost violently, he can almost hear his brain short circuit, because, yeah, that is certainly a possibility, and now Blaine can't get the thought out of his head. So he nods.

Their hands are on fire, clothes fly off, landing somewhere on the floor, and ten they're left only in underwear and holyshit this is feeling is new. They had made out pretty intensely before, but never had they both been this naked. Their chests are brushing up against each other, and Kurt's hands are slowly going down to the white fabric of Blaine's underwear, and pulling them down over Blaine's ass.

Kurt is hesitating, Blaine can see that, it's quite obvious, but their eyes lock, and for a moment, Blaine's "badass-I-don't-give-a-fuck" demeanour is gone. Their eyes connect, and Blaine just nods at Kurt, and Kurt then doesn't hesitate to lean down and fully take Blaine into his mouth.

It takes everything Blaine has not to scream when Kurt takes him in, because oh god it has been way too long since this has happened to him. For the past few months (ten exactly) Blaine has been the top, he's been in control because he likes it that way. But Kurt is in charge now for the first time ever and Blaine can't help but admit to himself that he loves it. Because, for a virgin, Kurt seems to know exactly what to do, exactly how to swipe his tongue along the side of Blaine's cock, and over the tip, in a way that makes Blaine moan so loudly he's sure the people in the apartment on the top floor could hear him, and he's whimpering, and he feels sort of like a child. He wants to come, so, so bad, but just as he thinks he can, Kurt slides his mouth off of Blaine, and his mouth goes up to his ear.

"Fuck me, Blaine," Kurt says in the smallest of voices, he seems so afraid, and Blaine just has the sudden urge to hold him.

"A-are you … sure?" Blaine asks quietly, he sees Kurt nod, and go over to the bedside table, grabbing out a package of lubricant and condoms, sliding them into Blaine's hand.

"Yes. Please," Kurt whispers, his eyes locking with Blaine's again,

Blaine's a little scared that he'll arrive too early – because Kurt's blowjob had put him a little bit too far on the edge – but he nods, and gives Kurt a soft kiss, and Kurt flips over. Blaine slicks his fingers, pressing two of them into Kurt's entrance, and he yelps out this cry of pain, and Blaine realizes just how terrified he is to do this right now, and there's that voice in the back of his head telling him to get the fuck out, because Blaine doesn't do this, he doesn't fuck random guys, and when he does he usually just leaves.

"Keep going, please," Kurt whispers, and Blaine shakes the voice out of his head, and adds a third finger, and stretches him out, making sure that Kurt is okay, and Kurt is nodding, urging Blaine to go on.

Then Blaine is sliding on a condom, and getting himself ready, and he's lined up with Kurt's open hole, and the voice screams again, but Blaine once again ignores it, pushing himself in.

As Blaine slides himself in and out, Kurt is making these sounds, these noises and Blaine feels like his heart is just going to explode, he's moaning himself, sliding in and out, as Kurt says his name over again and a long list of curses, like, "Fuck, shit, Blaine, Blaine, shit, fucking, fuck." And it takes everything Blaine does not to just come buried deep inside of Kurt at the sound of his voice, because Blaine is so close, and he wants to come, but he wants this to last longer, as long as it can, because this feels amazing.

"Blaine, I-I'm so close, _fuck_," Kurt says from underneath him, and Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting in and out so deeply.

Blaine feels something, something like he's never really felt before when he was with someone, he feels like he's part of something. Like he's important.

Like he's wanted.

"Kurt," Blaine cries as the two of them are coming, Blaine deep inside Kurt, Kurt pressed down into the sheets of his bed. Blaine says Kurt's name like a broken whisper, like it's something that could never be fixed, and his heart breaks. But he's not exactly sure why.

They're lying next to each other panting, and Blaine is running a hand through Kurt's hair, and Blaine is smiling, and then he moves, he goes and snuggles up close to Blaine, his head on his shoulder, and his arms around Blaine's waist.

"W-what are you doing?" Blaine asks.

"I'm a snuggler, Blaine Anderson," Kurt says with a yawn, "Get used to it." Kurt's eyes flutter shut with a smile – he's not asleep, but he's obviously about to be.

Get used to it. The words run around in Blaine's mind. He's never heard that line before.

He has this feeling. But he doesn't know what it is yet, he just knows it's there, and he doesn't know how to explain it. He's happy, but he feels as if his heart is breaking … but, in a good way. So he wraps his arms around Kurt's shoulder his cheek pressing up against the top of Kurt's head, and they fall asleep, wrapped up in each other.  
>Blaine doesn't ever want to move. He doesn't ever want to wake up from this exact position. But he knows he'll have to.<p>

He never stays for long.


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

* * *

><p>Blaine wakes up hours before Kurt does, late in the afternoon, but still before Kurt. He just lies in the bed and thinks, thinks about Kurt, thinks about his father, thinks about where he could be right now if he hadn't slept with all those people. He just thinks. And it hurts, sort of, because Blaine hasn't really thought in a long time, he's just done, or did. He doesn't think of what consequences of something could be, he doesn't think about his feelings, or others, or what he could be doing to his heart. He thinks of Wes, and David, and how much he could of hurt them with everything he was doing. Then, once again, he thought of Kurt. Glorious, beautiful, wonderful Kurt, with his hair that he seemed to style so perfectly everyday, and his eyes that seemed to change colour with his mood and what day it was. Kurt.<p>

Then Blaine realizes how much he wants to stay in the bed. How much he likes the feeling of having this sleeping boy pressed up against him, feeling the smooth rhythm of his breath, tickling down his chest and around the hair that's gathered there. He likes the way Kurt looks when he's sleeping too, like everything is peaceful and all right. Currently Kurt has this slight smile over his face, as his cheek is pressed up warmly against Blaine's bare chest, his heart pounding.

And then Blaine starts to panic.

What is he doing here? He's not supposed to be here, he's supposed to be at the bar, fucking some random guy, flirting with drunken losers like himself. He doesn't deserve this; he doesn't deserve to have this feeling. He's supposed to feel … something else other than this. He's not allowed to feel this; he's not allowed to be this happy. Especially not with someone like Kurt, beautiful, wonderful, angelic Kurt, who smelt like roses all the time.

Roses. Blaine remembers.

His father used to buy his mother roses. And Blaine would skip over to his mother, and he would ask to smell them, and his nose would go into the bright red flower, taking in the scent, and he would just live in awe of it, about how something so beautiful could have such a fragrant scent.

Blaine slips his arm out from underneath Kurt's warm body, before getting up slowly and quietly out of the bed, finding his clothes on the floor, and pulling them on. He's finally dressed, in his jeans, his t-shirt, his sweater. He remembers his coat is by the door. Blaine then turns to look at Kurt, who is still sleeping soundly in his bed. His hair messed up, but yet still looks so perfectly placed, his mouth was no longer in that small smile, but in the most adorable pout. And Blaine stands there, breathless wondering, _How can something so beautiful, have so many horrible things happen to him?_

Then Kurt stirs, and Blaine almost has a heart attack right there in the middle of the room. Kurt's eyes flash open, and he smiles at Blaine dreamily, standing up out of the bed, and reaching over and grabbing his own boxers from the ground, slipping them on and walking over to Blaine, giving him a quick kiss – Blaine doesn't kiss back, he doesn't move a muscle. He's not sure he can.

"Good morning," Kurt says softly, running a hand through the curls of Blaine's hair, and he steps back, shaking his head a little, biting down on his bottom lip so fiercely he thinks he could draw blood if he really wanted to.

"I-I have to go home," Blaine whispers very quickly, not meeting Kurt's gaze, not leaning into the touch, barely moving from where he is standing. Because he was supposed to leave, Kurt wasn't supposed to be here – awake.

Kurt nods, he seems to understand, (and yet he doesn't, and Blaine just wants to scream, but he can't) "Of course, I'll see you tomorrow, in class? Maybe we can get some dinner after…?"

"I don't think I'll be coming to class tomorrow, Kurt," Blaine whispers, still not looking the younger boy in the eye, "I-I don't think …" but he trails off.

"Oh," Kurt says, a little disappointed, "That's fine, I understand. You'll call me, though, right? We can have dinner soon?"

Blaine's head lowers, he's staring down at his shoes, ashamed of himself now, because he feels so dirty, and he wants the words to not come out of his mouth, but he knows he has to leave now, before everything is too late, "I-I don't think that's a good idea, Kurt," he says.

There's this silence, and Blaine hates it, because Kurt is just starting up at him confused, and Blaine is staring at his feet still, with this awful feeling in his gut that he can't seem to swallow away, and he hates this. It's too quiet, and he wants to scream again, but he can't.

"_Oh_," Kurt finally says, realization hits him, "I-I understand, then," he says quietly. There's another silence before Kurt speaks again, "You know… I should have expected this," he whispers, "You're_ that_ kind of man, you're the one who gets the people you want into bed, fucks them, and then leaves."

For the first time ever, that stings.

"You're the man who walks into bars, gets insanely drunk off of any type of alcohol you can afford at the time, finds the first man you can, and takes them home so you can fuck them."

For the first time ever, that makes Blaine take a step back.

"You're the man who ruins people, the man who breaks people, and doesn't give a _fuck_ about them!"

For the first time ever, that kills him.

"There's a difference between you and me!" Kurt screams at Blaine, the tears forming in his eyes, and his face is bright red from anger and the tears that are begging to fall.

"And what is that?" Blaine shouts back, not being able to feel anything but pain, and anger, and hurt, even though he's the one doing all of this, he's the one who's breaking everything apart, he's the one who is ending this. He's the one wilting the flower.

"You fuck! I make love!" Kurt screams, "I can feel and you're this emotionless, bottomless pit!"

"Fine then! I'm an emotionless, bottomless, fucking pit!" Blaine yells back, throwing his hands up in defeat, "Are you happy? Are you done screaming at me now? You don't understand how terrifying this is! I have to leave, because this would have happened eventually! I would have hurt you anyway, so I don't fucking know why you're making such a huge fucking deal out of this! This is your fault! You should have expected this!"  
>"My fault?" Kurt scoffs, "My fault? You're the one who was looking at me like I was some sort of prized steak! You're the one who practically forced yourself on me! You're the one who fucked me! This is your fault! You're an idiot! You have no soul! You're an emotionless, bottomless pit of nothingness and you don't deserve to love!" Kurt is now crying, the tears are running down his cheeks, and Blaine almost thinks he has to help, that he has to do something to make Kurt feel better. But he can't.<p>

Blaine throws his hands up to the ceiling dramatically, "Welcome to the world, Hummel!" he cries, slapping them down by his sides again, "Here it is! It sort of sucks doesn't it? Nothing isn't quite going your way, hmm? You don't get exactly what you want, your family leaves you, you have no home, you loose your job, you graduate – but barely! Life just …" Blaine scoffs, "Sucks…. But here it is! Here it all is, and this is the world, and you just have to deal with it, because there's nothing you can really do about it! This is the world, and this is how it will stay. Because the world is the emotionless, bottomless pit, it just takes up all the good feelings in the world … and devours them as their own."

They stand in silence for a long after this. Not looking at each other, but Kurt is sobbing in front of him, and Blaine's heart wrenches every time, because he can't do anything about it, because he's this bottomless, emotionless pit of nothingness that sucks away good things from people, and devours them as his own. He may as well be the world if this is all he does.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Kurt finally breathes, "Just get the fuck out, Blaine Anderson! Never come back! Get the fuck out of my life, get the fuck out of my world, get the fuck out of my house!"

"Gladly!" Blaine screams back, "I hope your little fantasy of what the world is supposed to be happens for you, because you'll be waiting forever to make sure it happens! And guess what? It won't!" Blaine then wrenches the door to the bedroom open, running through the house, grabbing his coat, and running out into the street.

He wanders. He wanders around the streets of New York for the rest of the evening, and he just thinks again. Thinks about the world, and what his expectations for it used to be, thinks about the bottomless pit that is himself, he thinks about the world, and how much it sucks. Thinks about his heart, and how much it's aching right now in need, in the want. And he knows exactly what he needs to do right now to get rid of that feeling.

He runs home to find David sitting at dining table, waiting for him. He's sitting at the dining table with what Blaine guesses to be a cup of coffee, and they look at each other for a moment.

David breathes a sigh of relief, "Where the hell have you been?" he hisses quietly, because – Blaine is guessing – Wes must be asleep, because he must have work tomorrow, "I've been worried sick! I thought you had just disappeared now! I was going to call the police in the morning if you didn't show up tonight! You need to stick in contact with us, we need to know that you're –"

"David I need the keys," Blaine interrupts, because he needs to get going now, he needs to let go of everything, and he needs to just feel something.

"Excuse me?" David says, almost in disbelief.

"I need the keys," Blaine says again, holding out his hand, "Just for tonight, I need them, please."

"No," David shakes his head, "No way, I'm not giving you the keys, I know exactly what you need them for, what you're going to use them for, and there's no way that I'm giving you the keys! Wes needs them in the morning to drive to work, and with our luck you won't even be here to—"

"David, no, you don't understand!" Blaine cries quite suddenly, "I_ need_ the keys. Because I feel like complete and total shit right now, I need them to go to a bar, and get some lucky random drunk guy, and fuck him, because even though it's disgusting to think this, it makes me feel accomplished in some way! I feel like I can do something right in the world, something I don't feel like a lot. So when I go, and I get drunk, and I fuck some random guy, yeah, I'm acting like a slut, like a man-whore. But those are my worst days, those are the days where I feel so down, that there's really nothing else I can do, except to go find some slobbering drunk gay man, and fuck him until he passes out, because at least by then I can feel something!"

There's one of those silences again, but this one is much less painful than the ones before, and Blaine is just simply waiting. He just spilt out a whole lot of shit that probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense. But he's still waiting.

Then David is grabbing the keys from the coffee table and shoving them roughly into Blaine's hand, "I swear to God if you aren't back here in the morning, I will have Wes kill you myself," he grumbles lowly.

Blaine just grabs the keys, "Thank you, thank you David, thank you," he mumbles, before running backwards out the door again.

All Blaine wants, is to be wanted by someone, and to want him back. To feel like he's worth something other than the nothingness he always seems to be. He wants his own person to take his own bright red flower to everyday. He just wants so many things, that the bottomless, meaningless, nothingness that the world seems to be, cannot give him.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

* * *

><p>Blaine can't remember a certain point in time where he was happy anymore. He's lying next to this person, who he can't even remember the name of right now, and he can't remember a time where he was happy. The only time he can think where he came close to what he suspected happiness was when he was with Kurt….<p>

But he can't think about Kurt anymore, no, he can't, he won't let himself. So instead Blaine just numbly gets up and dresses himself from this person's bed. It's about seven o'clock in the morning, and by seven-oh-ten he's out of there, and back in Wes' car and driving home.

He doesn't remember the last time he's felt so worthless, either.

"You what?" Wes shrieks, causing David to groan in pain and cover his ears.

"I … gave him the keys…." David says quietly, already prepared to be hit violently over the head by Wes himself. Only when he looks up Wes is just seething with anger, his fists clenched.

"Are you an idiot?" Wes screeches, "I'm supposed to be at work in," he checks his watch, "Fifteen minutes, and Blaine is no where to be found with the keys for the only car we have! Do you want me to loose my job, David? Do you want to be the only person to bring in money into this house, because with your shitty pay and the fact that Blaine uses our money for everything he does, we'll be on the street in no time, and it will be all your fucking fault because you're the one who gave Blaine Anderson our keys!"

The door slams shut.

The two men look over to see a shaky Blaine Anderson. His hair is dishevelled, his eyes are bloodshot, he looks absolutely awful, and he's visibly shaking. He walks over to Wes and places the keys softly into his hands, "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispers, before starting to walk towards his bedroom.

"Blaine…" David says softly, "Blaine, are you … are you okay?"

Blaine doesn't answer; he just opens the door to his bedroom and closes the door shut tightly.

Wes turns slowly to David, shooting him a "what the hell?" look, before walking over to the door and opening it, "I, uh… I have to go to work," he says quietly, "Make sure he doesn't die?"

David nods. Because for the first time ever, he sees something horribly wrong with one of his closest friends. He had never seen Blaine like this before. Yes, he knew that there must be something wrong in his head, and he knew he could be depressed, but the thing about Blaine is that he never let it show like just did.

The second the door shuts again, David turns around to see Blaine peeking out of his doorway, a little bit, and then the door is pushing open, and Blaine looks absolutely and positively sad. He just looks sad and lonely, sort of like a lost puppy. And David's heart aches for his friend for a moment.

"I didn't feel anything," Blaine whispers quietly, his head hanging low, "I just feel worse now, and it sucks."

David shakes his head sadly, "I find it quite stupid how you think that having sex will fix all your problems, Blaine."

Blaine freezes, "I think sex will fix everything," he argues back, "It just—"

"Gives you something to do, makes you 'feel', yeah, you've explained it to me Blaine. It's complete bull shit," David shouts back, jabbing a finger at Blaine, who is just standing motionless before him, "There are many more ways to feel than to give your body out to people you don't even know. You can go get help, talk to your friends, let people in, and don't sell yourself like you don't matter! So saying that sex is your way of feeling good about yourself is complete and utter bullshit!"

Blaine looks heartbroken, he's standing before one of the only friend's he has left, and his mouth his dropped open slightly, and he's just broken. He looks completely snapped in half, and he hates it. He hates this feeling, the feeling of nothingness, like he is nothing.

Like he's a bottomless black hole.

And now he just hurts.

Blaine swallows, taking a breath, "David, you just – you don't understand. Hell, I don't even understand what's wrong with me? You think if I could have reached out to your or Wes I would of? You guys made me feel like this … baby, this poor little baby who was kicked out of his own house, I couldn't go to you guys, you wouldn't of understood! Just like you don't understand now!"

The two men are just standing in silence now, and before David can say anything else, Blaine turns around, running back into his room and slamming the door shut. He walks back over to the bed and finally kicks off his shoes, jeans and pulls on a pair of his track pants, sliding down into the covers.

And he thinks. He thinks of everything that has happened to him in his life, when he learned out to ride a bike, when his puppy had died when we was eleven years old. When he came out to his parents when he was fifteen years old and the pain of being rejected by his father as he ran out the door in a rage. His first kiss with his high school crush, when he went to the prom with another boy when he was seventeen years old, and how they were almost chased out of the gym because of their sexuality. He remembers graduating, and starting his college career. He remembers the name of the boy he lost his virginity to – Martin Dolan – he remembers meeting Kurt, the tall, enticing dance teacher that blew him away.

His heart hurts at the thought of Kurt, though. He wonders what Kurt is doing, if he's hurting as much as Blaine is, or if he's already just gotten up and over it because Blaine isn't anything special. He's easy to forget, he assumes.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<p>

It is rated M for a reason.

* * *

><p>Sleeping doesn't come easily anymore. Kurt refuses to sleep in his own bed, because that's where <em>he<em>took him, and that's where Kurt knew that he was in love with _him_. The sheets are still a mess, and the clothes Kurt was wearing are still lying on the floor. Kurt knows this is disgusting, but he can't bring himself to clean it, and every time he tries he is just horrible reminded of his heartbreak.

Yet, life still does go on, and Kurt gets up from the couch the next day and teaches his class. He ignores that Blaine isn't there, and claims to have no idea where he was when people asked him – it was true, Kurt had no clue where the man was, nor did he really care.

The next two days consist of Kurt finishing his dance classes, on the last day; Rachel comes up to thim asking what is wrong. Kurt claims that nothing is wrong – which is a lie – that everything is perfectly fine – lie – that he is just tired – not a lie, but the context in which he is using it for, it could very much be.

The apartment is quiet, which is a weird thing to say because it had always been quiet since Kurt lived on his own. But now it was eerily quiet, like something was desperately missing. Kurt hated to admit that the thing could be Blaine.

You didn't mean anything to him, Kurt reminds himself painfully, You were just a way for him to get laid.

But then why did he stay for so long?

Fuck _you_, thoughts.

Life does go on, Kurt was just waiting for when it would.

*

Blaine is pretty positive he doesn't sleep for the next two days. He doesn't eat that much, and only gets out of bed in the late hours to use the restroom. Wesley and David attempt to make him talk, but Blaine says nothing.

He's thinking. He is writing a story in his head. There is this little boy, he's small and weak and doesn't have many friends. One day, his mother takes him to a fair, where he wins this big, bright, red balloon. At first, the boy doesn't know how he feels about the balloon, but he slowly grows to love it, to love having it is his hand, holding onto it tightly.

One day, the boy is being childish and foolish, and he accidentally lets go of the string on the balloon, and can only watch horrified and tearfully as the balloon disappears into the sky, never to be seen again.

Blaine doesn't ever feel like coming out of his room, or even sitting up in his bed for that matter. He just plays the image of the boy looking up sadly at the sky, as the bright red balloon leaves from his crutches.

When Blaine isn't thinking about the boy and the red balloon, he's dreaming of a different life, one far more different than his own. In the new dream life, he is straight and accepted by his father; he is dating a nice wholesome girl, and will soon prepare to marry her. In this life Blaine is happy. Happy and accepted and wanted.

Finally, the last thing Blaine thinks about on a regular basis is the future. The real future – his future and what he sees. What does he see? Nothing; he sees nothing, he can't even imagine that his life will turn out as, because he can't even put his thoughts passed his own bed. It's scary, it is all so very scary.

"Blaine," Wes' voice comes through the door as it gets pushed open. Blaine realizes that it must smell pretty bad in here when Wes' nose crinkles up. "Come on, Blaine, I think it's time to get up, you've been in bed long enough, let's go."

Blaine stays still in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He can feel Wes roll his eyes, "Seriously, Blaine, get up, you're overreacting," he says, and Blaine then slowly sits up, staring his closest friend in the face.

There's some sort of connection as their eyes lock, like Wes can understand Blaine's pain through his eyes. There is that connection that they had before, and suddenly they're best friends.

"Tell me about him," Wes whispers, as the door shuts, and he makes his way over to the end of Blaine's bed, sitting down crossed legged.

Blaine searches for a way to start, but he isn't sure if he wants to tell the full story, because that fight is still very much painful.

"Have you ever looked at a person and just – just known that they're the one?" Blaine asks, his voice rough and cracked from not speaking for a while, "Known that they're the one who you want to see everyday, they're the one who is beautiful in your eyes, and it doesn't matter at all what they do to you, because – in the end – they're just … the one?"

Wes shakes his head slowly, but Blaine just continues on.

"I want to spend forever with him, Wes, I want to hold his hand and just walk down the street like we did. I want to be the one who wakes up next to him everyday," Blaine sighs, "But I messed up, and it's all over. I should have never let go of the string."

Now Wes obviously has no idea what Blaine was talking about, but he seemed to get where Blaine was coming from.

"There are other balloons," Wes says softly.

"None are going to be as bright," Blaine explains sadly, "He was all the perfection I needed, and I just let it all go. I ran."

"And why did you run?" Wes asks.

"Because I was afraid of love."

And that's where it clicks. Blaine was in love, Blaine was in love with Kurt Hummel, the smart, beautiful and talented dance teacher he had met. His heart aches deep within his chest because he's in love with Kurt, but Kurt isn't with him. He's in love with someone who he left, who he broke and will never get back.

For the first time in a long time, Blaine crumples over and just sobs. He cries for all the time that he has been hurt, he cries for his father, he cries for David and Wes, he cries for Kurt. He just sobs so loudly that he's sure the neighbours can hear it. Because this hurts, this all just really hurts, everything that has ever happened to Blaine hurts, and he hates it.

"I love him!" Blaine cries, lifting his head to see a shocked Wes, "I-I love h-him, you have to let him know I love him, Wes please! Please let him know!" Blaine is pleading, on the verge of hysteria. The tears are coming fast down his face, he can't stop crying.

"Blaine," Wes says softly, putting his hands on Blaine's shoulders, "Blaine, calm down, alright? It's okay, it's all going to be okay!"

"You have to let him know that I love him, that I'm sorry, and I didn't mean any of it!" Blaine sobs, clinging onto Wes' shirt.

"Alright, yes, okay. I'll get him for you," Wes assures Blaine, standing up from the bed and searching Blaine's room until he finds Blaine's cellphone. The phone number isn't so hard to find, because Blaine must have recently cleared out all the numbers in his phone, leaving only four different numbers, Home, Wes, David and someone with the name of Kurt. He presses the call button and waits.

Blaine is still sobbing desperately in his bed, folded over with his head in his hands, and Wes is finally wondering how long it has been since he had let himself cry, and how long this will go on.

_"What the hell do you want?" _comes a voice from the other end of the phone, which Wes can only guess Kurt had his caller ID on.

"Um, hello… Kurt, this isn't Blaine," Wes says slowly, "This is Wes, Blaine's friend and roommate, did he ever tell you about me?"

_"No."_

Wes tries not to laugh at that, but smiles to himself, "Okay, okay that's fine, nevermind then, I just – Blaine needs you."

There was a long pause before Kurt spoke again.

_"Excuse me?"_

"Blaine needs you," Wes says simply, "He's sitting here, sobbing on his bed, screaming at me to tell you that he's sorry, and that he loves you," Wes can hear Kurt take in a sharp breath, "And it all comes down to that I think he needs you right now, Kurt. Now, I understand that you may not want to come, that you may hate him with every fiber of your being, and truthfully, I would understand, I've been there. But he needs you now, and if you could come I think it would mean everything to him."

There was another pause, as Kurt was thinking about what he could do – what he should do. But finally—

_"What's your address? I'll be there in a few minutes."_


	8. Chapter 8

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<br>Authors Note: I'm so sorry for the long delay again; but t's finally summer time for me though. Only one thing of bad news – my computer's backlight is broken. I'm using my computer monitor right now, and I'm still able to access everything. But we have to take my computer to the shop to get fixed. I don't know how long that will be, but updates could still be a little spread out, not being able to have my own computer to write them on. I may just write it all in a notebook, and then once I have my computer back, type it all up. I'm so sorry.

It is rated M for a reason.

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><p>Kurt was a complete idiot. What did he think he was doing? Taking directions from someone who claimed to be the boy who ruined his heart's friend, and driving towards to – what? <em>Comfort him<em>? Why? What had Blaine done to deserve the comfort? He didn't deserve any of it. Blaine was the one who ran, Blaine was the one who ruined it all, but yet … here Kurt was … driving towards the house where he was currently lying.

His heart still hurt, his eyes still felt bloated from crying so much, even though he hadn't been crying in the past few hours. He was tired, and he wanted to sleep, because he hadn't done a lot of that in the past couple of days either. His grips tightened on the steering wheel, suddenly debating whether or not he should turn around, and just drive home, forget about Blaine, since he isn't work the pain he had been suffering through for the past few days.

But then he was at the door of the apartment building, running up the long staircase towards the apartment number he had written in blank ink of his hand, and he was knocking loudly on the door, before he even thought, once again: _what the fuck am I doing?_

The door swung open, and there was a short Asian boy standing in the doorway, and a African American boy was standing closely behind. Kurt waved at them a little before walking in the doorway, slipping off his jacket.

"I'm Wes," the Asian boy said, holding out his hand towards Kurt, he motions back to the other boy, "And that's David. We're … Blaine's friends."

"Where is he?" Kurt asks shakily, honestly now completely scared of what will happen when he steps in the same room as Blaine Anderson once again.

"In his room," David says quietly, "He's not screaming anymore, or sobbing so loud that the neighbours can here, so that's good…"

Kurt's heart just aches there. He can't seem to picture Blaine crying, but apparently he had been lying in his room _sobbing_ and Kurt can't help but feel just a little bit guilty – even though he really doesn't have to.

"Come with me," Wes says, glaring at David a little, taking Kurt's shoulder and bringing Kurt along with him towards a door down the hallway of the apartment. Wes tells Kurt that this was where Blaine was, through that door and in bed. Then Wes left, leaving Kurt in front of the door alone.

Kurt thinks he stands there for at least five minutes before he realizes that he either needs to _go in_ or _get lost_. Kurt's trembling hand reaches towards the doorknob, and slowly eases it open, he walks shakily into Blaine's room, feeling very sick.

Blaine's room _smells_, that's the first thing Kurt realizes. It smells like sweat, and there's this other odd order, that Kurt can only call _sex_, and it's sort of disgusting. But the most heartbreaking thing about Blaine's room is the figure lying in the bed, that was most obviously Blaine, small whimpers of pain, lost sobs that had been choking out of him. It broke Kurt.

Kurt walks slowly over to the bed, sitting down on it, and then Blaine is turning around, his eyes – red and blotchy from crying – are widening, and it literally looks like the air has been taken away from his throat, because this weird squeaking sound, that sort of also sounds like a sob emerges from Blaine's throat, and Kurt can only give Blaine a sad smile.

Then only four simple words pass between them.

"You came."

"I came."

Then Blaine's face is crinkling up in the most heart breakingly of ways, and he's falling into Kurt's arms. Kurt wraps his arms around Blaine, holding his head into his chest, and lying down on the bed, as Blaine cries softly into Kurt's neck, holding him there, drinking in his scent. Kurt feels like breaking down as well, because this just feels so perfect, having Blaine in his arms, but he doesn't even know what's wrong, or why Blaine is so hurt by everything, when _he_ was the one who left.

"I'm so sorry Kurt," Blaine sobs out, his grip tightening on Kurt's waist, his face pressing into Kurt's neck, "I am just so, so sorry, I didn't mean any of it! _Any_ of it!"

"Shh, it's alright," Kurt soothes, running a hand through Blaine's hair, which actually feels a little gross, because Blaine probably hasn't showered in a few days, but he doesn't care. "I know, it's alright, I promise you."

Blaine continues to sob brokenly into Kurt's neck, the tears running around Kurt's neck, but he doesn't even care anymore, he could be lying in a vat of dirt now and he wouldn't care what it would do to his clothes, or his hair. He was with Blaine right now, holding Blaine, soothing Blaine that was all that mattered.

After a while, Blaine calmed down, and they were now resting quietly in the bed, Blaine's head resting softly on Kurt's chest, his arms wrapped around Kurt's waist, and Kurt's hand stroking through Blaine's dirty hair.

"You have a lot to explain," Kurt whispers quietly.

Kurt can feel Blaine nod against his chest, "I know," he whispers, "I'm sorry. I'll explain it all soon… I just … I want to be with you right now. I just want to be."

"Alright," Kurt says quietly, "Shower, eat something – because I'm sure you haven't eaten properly in awhile – and then come back to bed. I'll be here waiting."

Blaine looks up at him, sniffling a little, "Promise?"

Kurt nods, "I promise."

Blaine is standing in the doorway of his bedroom, changed, clean, his hair wet and sort of falling everywhere. He's staring at Kurt, who is sitting on his bed, his back against the wall, staring down at Blaine, with an unreadable expression.

"You're pretty," Blaine says, blushing a little bit.

"You're trying to change the subject," Kurt says.

Blaine sighs, going to sit down on the end of the bed, "It's a really long story."

"I'm willing to listen," Kurt smiles, "That's why I'm here, don't you forget."

Blaine nods a little, going to settle down in front of Kurt, his legs crossing, and he sighs a little, placing his head in his hands, "When you're younger, your father is … your everything, right? Especially when you're the eldest son of the family. He's the one who teaches you how to ride a bike, and cheers you on when you finally do it, he's the one who answers all your questions about your body that you are way too embarrassed to ask your mother. He's your father, and you love him, right?"

Kurt nods, knowing exactly what Blaine means by that. His father is definitely his everything; he couldn't picture his life without his father. Without his father, Kurt thinks, he wouldn't be the man he was today.

"That's who my father was to me when I was younger, he was everything to me. I loved him … so much," Blaine's eyes fall shut sadly, as he seems to go into deep thought, "That was … until I was fifteen – when I came out…. My father didn't approve of that, he told me I was lying, that I was confused and I was going to go somewhere to get fixed. When I refused… he left, he just left. He didn't even say goodbye to my mother, who was screaming for him to come back, he just packed up all his things… and left.

"So, my family moved on. My mother, sister and I got to move on with our lives without our father, the man we thought we knew. But life goes on, you know? You learn to get over the past, and move on with the new. So that's exactly what my family did. For the rest of my teenage years it was my mom, my sister and I living in our house in New York, they were there and they accepted me, they were there when I got my first kiss, they were there when I had to go through my first break up, and they were there for my high school graduation. They were there for everything.

"When I went into university, the first couple of years were good, I met a lot of new people, but I never really had a … boyfriend, I dated around, but I never stayed with any of those guys. They just weren't… my type, I guess. My last year of university is when … everything started to go down the bad road," there was a long pause, and Kurt could only stop and wait for Blaine to continue with his story, "My dad came back," he breathed out, through clenched teeth, "He just … showed up at the house one day, and apologized for everything. My mother, because my mother, and the hopeless romantic she is, let him back in. She just … allowed him back in the house, and they started acting like a couple again. I think they might be engaged again now, I don't know.

"So my dad thinks that because of all the years we've been apart that somehow I've changed, and I have to tell him that I do indeed still like guys. It somehow _still _doesn't go into his thick skull, and so we just move on. Every so often my father brings home a lovely woman for me, and I have to tell that poor girl, that I am very much gay.

"One day, I just snap. My father and I have a huge argument, and I leave the house, I go to this bar, and I get drunk. I get _wasted_, and then I meet this guy – I don't remember his face, and I can vaguely remember what he looks like. But we get talking, and eventually he has me pushed up against the back of the bar wall with his tongue down my throat, and then I was taking him home. Me and my drunken state was thinking, hey, maybe if I took a guy home, and let him fuck me, then my father will finally get the picture, and leave me alone. So that's exactly what I did. I took the guy home with me, and I let him fuck me. That was the night I lost my virginity."

Kurt could only stare wide-eyed now at Blaine. He hadn't pictured Blaine's past like that. He thought that maybe it didn't have to be the average sort of family, but in the back of mind he had always thought that something was wrong with Blaine. Something had made him always act like this.

"I'm sorry," Kurt starts, reaching out his hand to take into with Blaine's, but Blaine stands up, shaking his head and walking over towards the wall.

"Don't say anything, just – I'm not fished yet. Not quite. Just wait," he says, holding his hands up protectively. There's another quiet pause before Blaine starts talking again. "I lived on my own for a while, and I finally finished and graduated from University – maybe not with the best marks, but I still passed, and I was done. Then I started to feel like… I had nothing. I didn't have school to keep me busy from my own thoughts, so of course I let them wander, like I always do. I started to miss the feeling of … intercourse. So I … I went to bar one night, got drunk, and did the exact same thing I did before. Then I did it again, and again, and again. I lost my job; I was evicted out of my house, that's why I'm here in Wes and David's house. But I kept doing, I kept getting drunk, and fucked, until I was the one bringing the people home. It just kept on going and going, and I didn't stop because it brought me this feeling … of … power. Like – 'Hey, I can't make my family happy with my sexuality, but I sure can make some guy happy with my dick!'" Blaine sighs, leaning back on the wall and sliding back on it.

"What about me?" Kurt asks very quietly, "What was the difference between me and the other guys you've met?"

Kurt can hear Blaine swallow. "You were just so much more interesting, it felt like I was attracted to you like a magnet, like you just drew me in and I couldn't escape. I needed to get to know you because you were different. You obviously liked me," Kurt blushed at that, "but you refused to do anything about it. It was different."

"And why did you leave?"

Kurt swears he can hear a little sob comes from Blaine, and when he looks up at him, there are tears already threatening to fall from his face.

"Because I don't _deserve_ this," Blaine whispers, "I don't deserve to be happy, or to be able to love someone and have them love me back. I don't deserve any of that, especially what I've done to my friends, and my family, and now you. I just – I didn't deserve it."

Blaine curls up in a ball then, bringing his legs up to his chest, and hides his face in his knees, and he starts to cry softly and brokenly again. Kurt just walks up towards Blaine, and wraps an arm around his shoulders, and helping him up again, bringing him back to the bed and tucking him in, petting softly at the mostly drying mop of curly hair on his head.

"Y-you're not leaving, are you?" Blaine sobs, gripping tightly onto Kurt's hand that is petting his hair, "You're not disgusted and leaving now are you?" the panic is very evident in his voice.

Kurt shakes his head, "No, I'm staying right here, Blaine."

"Promise?" Blaine sobs.

"I promise."


	9. Chapter 9

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<br>Authors Note: I'm so sorry for the long delay again; but t's finally summer time for me though. Only one thing of bad news – my computer's backlight is broken. I'm using my computer monitor right now, and I'm still able to access everything. But we have to take my computer to the shop to get fixed. I don't know how long that will be, but updates could still be a little spread out, not being able to have my own computer to write them on. I may just write it all in a notebook, and then once I have my computer back, type it all up. I'm so sorry.

It is rated M for a reason.

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><p>They stayed in bed together for the rest of the day, just staying silent, sometimes talking, their hands and legs intertwined beneath the covers, sometimes telling stories, sometimes just quietly listening to the sound of their own breathing. Tracing each other's faces with their fingers, memorizing skin they had been afraid they would never touch again.<p>

Blaine told Kurt the story of the boy and the red balloon, and about how the little boy was sad because he was afraid he could never get he balloon back.

"I think the boy got the balloon back," Kurt whispers, his fingers tracing over Blaine's jawline softly, his eyes staring comfortingly into Blaine's, "I think he tried… really, really hard and was able to get the balloon back."

"Do you really think so?" Blaine asks brokenly, tears filling his eyes.

"I know so," Kurt replied, his fingers now curling to the back of Blaine's neck, bringing their foreheads together, and he watches as Blaine's eyes flutter shut, feeling his eyelashes brush against Kurt's own cheeks, and he closes his eyes as well, and listens to their breathing again, going slowly and surely past his lips, Kurt can feel the hot air brushing over his cheekbone in little pants.

Blaine falls asleep against Kurt for the second time that day, and Kurt just holds him tightly against him and feels Blaine's breathing slow down into a comforting rhythm. Kurt rubs his hand slowly along Blaine's clothed back, resisting the urge to pull it off of his body and leave small, loving kisses along Blaine's chest, so he will know how much Blaine wants him to be okay, and to be fixed. But he knows that won't solve anything.

"How did you do it?" comes a voice from the doorway. Kurt looks up to see David standing there, staring at Blaine who was curled up against Kurt now, his gaze then falls up to Kurt, "How did you get him to tell you … everything?"

"You were _listening_?" Kurt hisses.

David shrugs, "I've been waiting a whole year to figure out what's wrong with him," he whispers, walking in through the door, "And he … he tried to explain it to me, but I didn't understand. But… you come in – and I didn't even know you were real – and you get everything out of him, and it doesn't make any sense. I've been Blaine's friend for _years_ now, and you come in and in a matter of minutes you know his life story. So, Kurt Hummel, I'm just asking… _how_?"

Kurt looks up at David, and then his eyes travel down to Blaine's head, which is still resting heavily on top of his chest, and his curly mop of hair is thrown everywhere, and Kurt can't help but smile. "I don't know," he whispers, "I don't know what's so different about me than every other man in the world, but… he chose me, and chose me to know everything and to hold him when he was sad. He chose me, and I'm going to say and listen as long as he needs me to."

David sighs sadly, but nods, and without another word, leaves the room. Kurt lets his head fall back on the bed now, sighing softly, his eyes fluttering shut.

"You didn't forgive me, did you?" Blaine asks quietly, Kurt's eyes snap open and he's looking down at Blaine and at first he's is confused, but then Blaine is continuing, "You didn't forgive me for leaving… and for taking you like that… you heard my story, but you haven't forgiven me yet."

Kurt opens his mouth to speak, but he suddenly doesn't know what to say. Kurt usually knows always what to say, but Blaine Anderson has rendered him speechless.

Blaine suddenly sits up, and grabs Kurt's hands into his own, holding onto them for dear life, "The difference between you, and all of the other guys I've met, is that … you're you, and none of those other guys were. You are _you_."

Before Blaine can process Kurt's face, Kurt has brought their mouths together in a long, passionate kiss, and it's everything, _everything_ Blaine has been missing. Kurt's hands are gripping at Blaine's neck, holding him close so he can't pull away, and when they do, they're breathing heavily, and Kurt is burying his face in Blaine's neck.

"You said you loved me," Kurt whispers, holding Blaine tightly.

Blaine's breath hitches a little, and he nods, rubbing softly at Kurt's back, he doesn't say anything, mostly because he's a little too shocked, but also because he's afraid of admitting it.

"You did say that, right? I mean – you implied it… you love me, right?" Kurt whispers, leaning his head out of Blaine's shoulders and framing his face, "Because I … I love you."

"I love you," Blaine blurts out now, diving at Kurt, tackling him down on the bed, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

"I love you!" Kurt laughs quietly, hugging Blaine close again.

"I love you," Blaine cries quietly, leaving a trail of kisses down Kurt's neck, "I love you so much, Kurt."

"I want to make love to you," Kurt whispers, causing Blaine to freeze and turn his gaze back up to Kurt's eyes.

"I want you to make love to me," he whispers, "But… not here," he explains, "Not in… this bed."

Kurt laughs softly at that, "Of course not here, Blaine, definitely not here. At my house… our house… I want you to move in with me," Kurt whispers, "I know it's a lot to ask of you, but it's not too late for you to start over. You'll move into my house with me, you have your degree, I'm sure it's not impossible for you to get a job, and a well paying one at that. We'll get you some medical attention – because you need it, and don't argue with me about that. We'll live together and we'll be…"

"A couple," Blaine finishes, putting a hand against Kurt's cheek, "Yes… I-I'll move in with you, I promise."

For the first time, as Blaine leans down to press his mouth firmly against Kurt's again, he feels like he's wanted, and like he's loved by someone for the first time in a long time. For the first time… in a long, long time… Blaine is wanted, and he is just fine with that.


	10. Epilogue

Title: The Boy and The Red Balloon  
>Author: Evil Beware We Have Waffles<br>Pairing: Klaine (Kurt/Blaine)  
>Rating: M<br>Authors Note: I'm so sorry for the long delay again; but t's finally summer time for me though. Only one thing of bad news – my computer's backlight is broken. I'm using my computer monitor right now, and I'm still able to access everything. But we have to take my computer to the shop to get fixed. I don't know how long that will be, but updates could still be a little spread out, not being able to have my own computer to write them on. I may just write it all in a notebook, and then once I have my computer back, type it all up. I'm so sorry.

It is rated M for a reason.

* * *

><p>The next few days were busy as Kurt was helping Blaine pack up all his belongings. Blaine didn't own that much, but he did happen to have a lot of t-shirts, and it took a lot of arguing to convince him that he didn't <em>need<em> twenty-plus t-shirts in his wardrobe. But after three long days of packing up all of Blaine's clothes, books and everything else that Blaine deemed important to bring along, they were ready. All of the stuff was in the back of Kurt's car, and they were now standing in the middle of Wes and David's kitchen ready for their goodbyes.

The three friends stand awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, as Kurt stands over at the door waiting. Blaine walks forward and envelopes both of them in a large hug, and they do the same, and suddenly it's just a huge childhood group hug.

"Thank you for at least trying," Blaine whispers, "And I'm sorry for being such a douche," the three of them laugh a little at that, but then they break away, and Blaine turns to Wes. "Wes, I'm sorry for having sex in your bed those few times as well."

"You _what_?" Wes shrieks, and then Blaine can only squeeze his shoulder and laugh, walking over to Kurt and entwining their fingers.

"Once we're settled in you definitely have to come over for dinner," Kurt says quietly, reaching out to shake both of their hands, "It's been nice meeting you."

Then they take the drive back to Kurt's apartment, and Blaine's heart is beating the whole way there. He's honestly a little scared; the last time he was there he had taken Kurt's virginity, and ran out the door. This time he won't, he knows he won't, but he's still afraid of going back in that house. Going back in there means facing a fear, and facing fears was something that Blaine was never really good at.

But Kurt takes Blaine's hand and brings him into the house, and lets Blaine be as shaky and scared as he needs to be, but squeezes his hand comfortingly, letting Blaine know that he's here, and he'll always be here to hold his hand.

Blaine doesn't exactly remember how Kurt pulled him into his room, and when they had started kissing, or for how long they had been doing it. But he remembered to let himself indulge in Kurt's scent, and breathe him in, because this was the man he was in love with. They were kissing slowly, letting the feeling linger on each other's skin, and when they toppled down on each other on Kurt's bed, they continued to kiss with all the passion that they could give in their bodies at that moment.

And when they were naked and Kurt was pressing down on him, slicking up his fingers and working Blaine open as slow as he could go, Blaine couldn't help but know that this was right, what they were doing, how they were doing this. And he wanted to cry, he wanted to bring Kurt down for another kiss, but he knew now wasn't exactly the time.

So when Kurt was pressing slowly into him, and Blaine's back was arching up at the intrusion, crying out and wrapping his legs around Kurt's waist, trying to pull him deeper.

"Kiss me," Blaine begged, and Kurt was only happy to oblige.

Then Kurt made love to him slowly, and it was a whole new feeling to Blaine, having only been fucked for the majority of his life. It felt like home, having Kurt deep inside him, moving in and out slowly, whispering "I love you's" into Blaine's ear, and petting his fingers over his hips. So when they came over the edge together, and Blaine shouted out Kurt's name again, he knew it was right, he knew it was perfect, lying here in the bed with Kurt, and saying that he loved him over and over again into his ear now.

Blaine had decided he wanted to write a book about a little boy and a red balloon, and one day, when that little boy was foolish and let go of the string, he would take a rocket ship up, and try desperately to grab that red balloon out of the air once again, and when he would… well, everything would be perfect to this lovely ending, now, wouldn't it?

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><p>AN: And it's done! I would like to thank you all for the kind reviews, they meant a lot. Thanks for sticking around. 3<p> 


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